


ask not what your country can do for you

by remembermyfic



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Not Hockey Players, Alternate Universe - Politics, F/M, None of the politics mentioned are real, there's very likely swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26132194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remembermyfic/pseuds/remembermyfic
Summary: “You’d lose your citizenship, and your inexplicable season’s tickets to the Flames - weird flex but I’m convinced you have a crush on Sean Monahan and won’t admit it - and your maple syrup pipeline. And we both know you refuse to eat waffles without maple syrup.”The entire room is silent. Matthew wants to laugh. Jack’s right is the thing, and she has yet to look up from an email. When she does, it’s with a bland smile. “On the other hand, The Post agreed to send Bissonnette, so hopefully no murder will be committed when you interview on the issue of US troops in South Korea and Japan.”
Relationships: Jack Hughes/Matthew Tkachuk
Comments: 7
Kudos: 45





	ask not what your country can do for you

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Kayla and she will happily take responsibility. I know this for a real life fact. 
> 
> If you know the people, you click away. That's how it works. 
> 
> That quote is super famous. The title one. It's not mine.

Matthew did not sign on to be Secretary of Defense. Hell, he really didn’t sign on at all but Jack Eichel was persuasive long before he was elected president and that’s how Matthew got into this mess in the first place.

“I will quit. Straight up quit, if you cannot get him under control.”

“It’s not my fault they asked a straight up question,” is Matthew’s incensed response. Steph is number one at her job and Matthew will absolutely defend her to beyond the grave, but this is too far.

“You told the press, and I quote: ‘Would I like to fight DPRK? Absolutely. With my own two hands. But I’m informed that is not in my job description’.”

Matthew throws up his hands. “Which is all factual information.”

“The Secretary of Defense just said he would fight North Korea. We’re lucky we’re not in the middle of nuclear war!”

“You know that doesn’t faze me.”

“It’s not like it’s a new statement.”

Matthew’s eyes fly to a young woman, head bent over her phone. Even Steph’s turned to face her. It takes her a few seconds before she looks up. The panic sets in quickly.

“Hi?”

“It’s not like it’s a new statement,” Steph repeats.

The woman swallows, but Matthew has to give her credit, she straightens her spine. “Secretary Tkachuk has threatened North Korea in every meeting since he took office, ma’am. I was remarking on his lack of creativity.”

A snort comes from behind Matthew. He whirls around to find Auston barely containing laughter.

“I’m creative!”

Jack, who has been watching the proceedings with a shocking amount of calm, says, “Miss-“

“Hughes.”

“Miss Hughes,” Jack repeats. “You haven’t by chance been keeping count of how many times Secretary Tkachuk has alluded to personally committing violence against North Korea, have you?”

She doesn’t flinch. Even Matthew is impressed. “Unfortunately no, Mr President, sir. I can start if you’d like.”

Jack looks between all three of them and Matthew hates the calculation in his eyes. “No need, Miss Hughes. Steph. Will you stay on if we give Matt a handler?”

“I don’t need a-“ Matthew starts, but he’s effectively cut off when Steph says, “If they can keep him in check.”

“Something tells me that won’t be a problem,” Jack says, eyes straying back to Hughes. “Congratulations, Miss Hughes. Report to Secretary Tkachuk’s office tomorrow at 9am.”

“Do you hate me?”

Jack snorts and hands over a glass of whiskey. “Of course not. Unfortunately for both of us, Steph is exceptional at her job and your brand of asshole is not one she appreciates.” He sips from his own glass. “We go way back and there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you, but Steph is going to win that battle every time. Especially when all it takes is me getting you what equates to an aide. Or a personal assistant. Which, why don’t you have one of those?”

Matt sighs. “He quit and I never hired another one.”

“Quit?”

“I don’t need a personal assistant-“

“Matt. They’re actually useful.”

“Not if her job is to shut me up!”

Jack snorts. “It’s not about shutting you up. Look, when it comes to you doing your job, there’s no one else I want. You’re good at negotiating when you want to, and you’re even better with policy. Public relations is not your strong suit and it isn’t what we pay you for. So let her make sure you don’t say dumb shit to the press and maybe keep you up with your schedule so you can do the shit you actually need to do without answering bullshit emails.”

Okay, when he phrases it that way, Matthew feels less like a dog called to heel. “Three weeks. Trial period.”

“Three months probationary like every other company ever.”

“Months!”

“Without you scaring her away. Though she didn’t seem like the fearful type.”

She isn’t, as Matthew finds out very quickly. Very little fazes Jack Hughes - “Please, just Jack, sir.” - and as it turns out, they make a good team. President Jack had been correct in saying his Jack could handle the bullshit emails on dumb policy questions, and as it turns out, media responses. She’s tight with Mitch Marner, Steph’s second in command after only two months. By month four, she’s secure in her job and her place.

Matthew thinks she’s amazing.

“We’ll declare war.”

“Matt, we can’t do that,” President Jack says, frustrated. That’s an indicator in itself. It’s the kind of thing that’s lightened up a meeting before.

“I can and I will. You put me in charge of weapons, but you never let me use them.”

“I will fucking reassign you to Canada.”

“I’ll declare war with Canada!”

“You’d lose your citizenship, and your inexplicable season’s tickets to the Flames - weird flex but I’m convinced you have a crush on Johnny Gaudreau and won’t admit it - and your maple syrup pipeline. And we both know you refuse to eat waffles without maple syrup.”

The entire room is silent. Matthew wants to laugh. Jack’s right is the thing, and she has yet to look up from an email. When she does, it’s with a bland smile. “On the other hand, The Post agreed to send Bissonnette, so hopefully no murder will be committed when you interview on the issue of US troops in South Korea and Japan.”

“I can’t even get Bissonnette,” Steph says. “Can she work for me?”

“She does, in a roundabout way,” is Auston’s response. “So we’re tabling war with Canada?”

“Seems like the right choice,” Noah says. “We’d have to call Treasury. I spend too much time with them as it is.”

It’s well past midnight for the sixth night in a row. They’re both tired, they’re both frustrated and they’ve been going around and around in circles on weapons spending.

“It doesn’t have to name countries!”

“It does! Or there’s always going to be an excuse as to why we can’t send them to Yemen or Sudan, or whatever other country wants to torture its citizens and that’s the point! No more proxy wars.”

“Matt, it will not pass if you specify which countries the United States cannot sell to- what?”

He blinks at her. “You called me Matt.”

She goes stiff, awkward. “I’m sorry, sir, I-“

“No,” he blurts. “That’s not…”

Jack stays silent.

“It works?”

She makes a questioning sound.

“I like it,” he admits, and tamps down the myriad of other things he likes about her, about their relationship. Things like how she’s still here past midnight even though talking through policy isn’t exactly supposed to be her job. “It’s… I’m okay with it.”

“Here?”

Everywhere, he wants to tell her, because he likes the way it rolls off of her tongue. “Wherever it’s not considered disrespectful?”

“That’s like, everywhere.” But it’s amusement leaking through her voice right now and Matthew finds himself wondering what his name would sound like in that same affectionate, exasperated tone.

He’s wondering how it would sound in a lot of different ways, actually but that road leads him to ruin on a number of different levels and he tamps down hard on the thought.

“We’ll see what I can do.”

“It didn’t pass.”

She sounds so shocked, like she was sure the American government would step up and help out. There’s never a guarantee there. Matthew’s grateful they’re watching from the Pentagon. Jack looks genuinely shattered and it’s the kind of face the news reports would pick up in an instant.

“It was a long shot,” he reminds her. “You told me that before we put the bill forward.”

“I didn’t believe it. You didn’t believe it.”

“I didn’t want to believe it,” he corrects gently. “If I let myself think of that, I wouldn’t put forth any policy changes ever.”

She’s already on her iPad checking the names of those who voted against. “Matt, there are a lot of names here that said they’d vote for it.”

He drops to his couch and rubs at his forehead. He’s expected it. He’s been in politics long enough to know to expect it. “They lied.”

Silence reigns.

“I need you to promise me something.”

When he looks up, she’s all passion, all determination, and maybe a sliver of hurt. This breaks her, more than a little, and it hurts to see it.

“Jack-“

“I’m serious. I need you to promise me something.”

“What?”

She watches him intently for a few moments. There’s so much on her face and yet he can’t make sense of any of it. “Promise me you won’t lie to me.”

His stomach flips. His heart thumps. “I can’t do that, Jack.”

“You have to,” she says, stepping closer. He hates that he finds her beautiful like this too. “Tell me you don’t want to talk about it, tell me it’s going to be horrible conversation, but don’t lie to me. I can handle anything else, but I need one person who never lies to me. Not like that. Not in this job.”

This job that’s expanded into more than she signed up for. This job he’s dragged her into because he trusts her the same way she wants to trust him now.

“Promise me, Matt.”

There’s no way he can get out of it. Not when she’s looking at him like that, and using his first name, which they keep for moments where it’s just them. So, he leans forward on his elbows and makes sure to meet her eyes.

“I promise, to the absolute best of my abilities, to never lie to you.”

“That’s not good enough!”

He’s not sure why he reaches out, why he catches her hand. “There will be times I can’t tell you the truth. And there will be times I lie to you because I forget, or because the outcome is too hard to be honest about.”

She sniffles, and Matt can see that it embarrasses her.

“I will promise you, I will never look you in the eye and intentionally lie to you.”

They both know it’s the best he can give her.

“You promise?”

Matthew gives in and stands, pulls her into a hug. She’s short enough that he can rest his chin on her head, wrap her up like he could single handedly hide her from the world. “I promise, Jack. Of course I promise.”

The breath she releases is still shakey and uneven. He should let her go, and apologize for the unprofessional response. Instead, he lets her wrap her arms around him too. Her voice is barely a breath when she says, “Okay.”

“Are you still at the office?”

“A bold accusation,” Matthew replies, dropping his phone on the desk. She hates it when he does it because it clatters in her ear, but Matthew never remembers.

“Considering I left hours ago and yet you’re still calling me, I’d say it‘s a fair one. You’re not denying it.”

“You made me promise not to lie to you.”

She huffs. “I’m not the only single, attractive human in that office, Matt. You have to get out sometimes too.”

Matt’s body goes hot at her implication. It’s been doing that for a while. Because he’s not blind. Jack’s attractive and hearing her refer to him as the same… well. Maybe there’s a really dumb reason he’s not getting out much.

“They’re voting tomorrow on the intervention in Syria.”

There’s a sigh, then some quiet murmuring. An irritated voice follows, but Matthew’s particularly adept at brushing those off. “You’ve done literally everything. The arguments are solid, the reasoning is correct. If they don’t pass it, it’s not because you haven’t put blood sweat and tears into it.”

“People die if it doesn’t pass.”

“People die either way.”

He jolts. He’d said that to her once, not indifferent but exhausted. He’s not sure he could do this again when Jack runs in the fall.

Fuck.

“It might fuck Jack’s re-election chances. Our troops are already spread too thin…”

“That’s fixable too. Look, we can look at where we can pull troops from tomorrow, but Matt. My sister’s in town and you need to go the fuck home.”

“Shit,” he says because he’d forgotten. “You shouldn’t have picked up.”

“So you could keep moping in your office by yourself and falling down some strange government shame spiral? No thank you. Quinn will forgive me.” Then after a moment. “And no Twitter. Nothing good on Twitter happens after 10pm and we don’t need another literacy debacle.”

It’s eleven. Fuck Matt does need to go home. “That was one time and it was ironic.”

“It extended Steph’s press conference by thirty minutes because the American people didn’t get it. They just thought you were dumb and no one wants a dumbass by the nukes.”

Matthew outright cackles. “I’m getting that on a mug.”

“If it gets you out of the office and keeps you off Twitter, have at it. Just give me one for Christmas.”

“Hey Jack?” He says when his laughter dies down, but they’re still on the phone. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Hey Matt? Me either. Now go home.”

“Yes boss.”

“Who the fuck are you anyway?”

Matthew’s blood goes cold. He can handle a lot, does handle a lot. He’s gotten into dumb fights over dumber policies and declared war on 90% of the members of the UN General Assembly including Vatican City, but he has never in his political life felt the cold fury that sweeps over him. Jack had been right when she interrupted the Senator from Ohio, and Matthew will never ever let a human speak to Jack like that.

“Senator, you are out of line,” he says calmly, calculated. It’s the tone that got him the job, the cold logic he can pull out when he feels it necessary. “She is my aide. She’s earned her spot here by being better at her job than you are at yours or we would not be having this conversation in the first place. So you leave her out of this because she will always be ten, twenty, a hundred times better of a human than you will ever be.

“Get out.”

“Sir.”

“Out!”

The senator and his aides pack up without another word. He’ll be hearing from Jack about this later, which is fair, but for right now, he can barely breathe through his fury. He’s up and pacing when the door closes behind the Senator. Jack sits calmly, iPad still sedately in her lap.

“That’s a lot of nice stuff you said about me.”

“It’s all fucking true,” Matthew replies, still spitting mad. No one goes after Jack. “This job is easier with you here.”

“Matt,” she murmurs. She’s in front of him now and she’s so close. It would be so easy to lean down, to give into the months of wanting to kiss her. He hates the way it’s so hard to swallow. She looks like there’s a million things she wants to say. What she settles on is, “We make a good team.”

He still wants to kiss her, wants to do more than that with all of this pent up energy. Instead he lets her steer him to the couch.

“Thank you for defending me,” she says. “Though, I could have just as easily put him in his place and without kicking him out of a meeting that took me a lot of time to set up.”

“Really?”

Jack laughs as she pours him a glass of water. “I was prepared, Matt. I had stats and charts and spreadsheets.”

“Overachiever.” There’s an embarrassing amount of affection in his voice. “Next time, I’ll let you fight the big bad Senator.”

“For the last time, we do not live in a Star Wars movie.”

Matthew laughs.

Jack wins a second term. Matt feels relieved if he’s honest. They’d just started and another four years, without worrying about reelection will do wonders for what Jack’s able to do. Which is how Matthew finds himself holding up the wall at Jack’s victory party, watching him work the room.

“He’s so good with people.”

Matthew laughs as he glances down at Jack. He’d made sure she got an invite. “He’s so good.”

“You really believe in him.”

“Since before he was a Senator,” Matthew confesses. “Jack was always going to do amazing things.”

“So are you, you know,” she says. “Dance with me?”

He should say no. She’s not working for him anymore but they’ll see plenty of each other for the term. But he also can’t say no to Jack. He hasn’t been able to in almost a year. He can’t stop himself from pulling her closer than professional either. She comes, however, easy as can be. Matthew feels his heart rate speed up.

“You know, you still have to hire a new aide.”

He frowns. He’s still not happy Jack had chosen to move over to Nugent-Hopkins’ Department of State, but he’s also not in the business of holding her back. DOS will do wonders for her resume and he wants her to succeed before he wants to keep her by his side. “No one’s good enough.”

She laughs. It sounds so carefree. Matthew only wants to see her like this. “I sent you a shortlist of candidates you’ve chosen to ignore. It’s a little offensive, actually. It hurts my feelings when you ignore my emails.”

“I don’t have to answer them.”

“Answer this one before I choose for you.”

“Doesn’t that mean you have to come in and interview them?”

“Smooth, Matthew.” But she’s grinning too hard. “Look. Call Casey Mittlestadt. Give him a real chance. If he doesn’t work out, I will come interview new aides with you.”

“Confident.”

“In him, yeah. You’ll like him, Matt.”

“I like you.”

“That’s quite the compliment coming from you.”

She’s beaming and beautiful and he’s about to not have this, not be able to call her at midnight or hear her remind him to go home. He won’t have her to bounce policy ideas off of and watch her mind spin. “Jack-”

The smile slides from her face. “Matt-“

“I want to keep calling you,” is the dumbass thing that comes out of his mouth. “Even though you’re gone. I want you texting me rude things about Senator Doughty during committee meetings and trying to learn Finnish because you want foreign delegates to feel at home.”

“Matt-“

“I miss you. I already miss you and you’re right fucking here.”

“Matthew.”

“I don’t want you to leave because I don’t want to stop seeing you every day and having coffee and dinner together where we should talk about work but your taste in hockey teams is so abysmal we forget-“

“Matt.” Her hands come up to his jaw. “Shut up.”

Never had he ever pictured Jack as the one to initiate the first kiss, as confident here as she’s always been. His arms tighten around her, hold her as close as their bodies allow. He kisses back, because he doesn’t know how not to, doesn’t know how to give Jack anything other than whatever she wants.

He can’t stop himself from resting his forehead on hers when the kiss breaks naturally. “Jack,” he says. “Jack.”

“I’ve been in love with you for months,” she confesses, because she’s always been braver than him.

“Don’t stop,” he replies. “Jack.”

Her laugh is a little hysterical, like she can’t believe it’s real. “Take me to dinner first.”

“A date,” he replies, immediately.

Breakfast in bed is what they’ll always call their first date, Jack’s dress hanging in Matthew’s closet because despite all of his protests and persuasive techniques, she hadn’t been able to leave it on the floor.


End file.
